The first was a neighbor
I fell fast into friendship with
Until he betrayed my innocent trust.

The second was a cousin,
Someone admired and adored
Until he twisted my adoration
Into something I didn't recognize
Or ask for.

The third was an uncle,
A partner in crime
Kept close to my heart
Until he bent the rules
And my will.

My view of the world
Was shaped
By these three men.

Men I knew. Cared for.
Looked up to in awe.
And they used that
Toddler fascination
To their sick advantage.

Until I learned that
Love is shown in funny ways.
A secret meeting
Shh, don't tell your parents
Threats only barely veiled
Or something bad might happen
To your little sister.

And bruises left as reminders
You asked for it.

They showed me the love I was worth.

Not really sure how I feel about this one. It was more just a "getting feelings off my chest" kind of deal.  But hey, isn't all poetry?

The times last year
you stole my body
I remember vividly
As that day grows near
I feel hatred growing in me
Something I have not felt
For anyone but myself
In the longest time
I wish I could show you
What your theft left me with
Or go back in time and
Lock the door though
you climbed through the window

Did you think I would have let you in?

Your confidence smelled
Of Cologne mixed with power
Your alpha hands grabbed my waist
And I have thrown up every day
Remembering how you called me names
For telling you to stay the fuck away

I still see it sometimes and I hate that
No one, not even the witness believed me
I have yet to fill what you dug when you stole my body from me

angelique Jan 7

i lost my innocence at eight years old
and i wish someone would have told me that
i wish i hadn't figured it out by myself when my trust in anything that was supposed to be safe was already long gone
i wish i hadn't walked up to him
i wish i wasn't afraid to tell people that i did because i'm afraid to hear someone blame me for it
i wish i didn't blame me for it
i wish i never have to experience that awful feeling of simultaneous disgust, shame, dirtiness, and confusion again
every time i've taken my shirt off for ten years straight.
when i shower.
when anyone touches me even in the most innocent way.
that feeling like the only way i could ever feel completely clean would be to burn my skin off.
that feeling that consumes my mind out of the blue and suddenly i'm that little girl in the green and white striped skort again that didn't understand what happened to her
just that it was bad
the little girl that nobody taught to differentiate between what was okay along with the real, blunt reason why and what happened to her so any sort of physical contact with people felt wrong
i wish i could never feel that again
i wish it could be night all the time and no one would ever be around
they warn you about wandering too far from home when you're alone
about going out after dark and playing in places without people around
about the bad people, the sick malicious perverts, that you have to watch out for
they don't tell you about the good people that just don't know what they're doing
they don't tell you about the grandfather with dementia watching his grandson play at the park in broad day light surrounded by people
at least, they don't tell you to stay away from him
daylight has never made me feel more secure than darkness
and seeing people nearby has never brought me comfort
because nothing has ever made me feel more unsafe and vulnerable than that day in the park
in broad daylight
surrounded by people

Cordelia Rilo Sep 2016

Mama there's boys in my bed, they won't let me out
I cry and yell but they hold me down tight

Their faces melt together, their bodies grow big
They wrestle and fight, my blood filling their mouths
I lay pinned and fastened
I'm cold and I'm wet

Mama there's holes in my clothes
and I tried and I tried but the tears they still rolled

Arlo Disarray Aug 2016

Rape is not a joke.
It is something that happens.
Something that changes the way someone looks at everything.
At everyone in their life.
It makes them afraid to be.
Afraid to live, to breathe, to do anything.
It takes over your life, your views of people, your memories.
It taunts you.
Even when you think you've beaten it,
it does its best to beat you.
It finds you in your sleep.
In your dreams,
it conceals itself in different forms.
And even when it isn't direct,
you know it's there.
It slips itself into everything you do and feel.
It makes sex scary for you,
even when it's with someone you love.
And it makes you feel guilty
for not being able to fully please the person
your heart belongs to
because no matter how hard you try to forget,
every time you get intimate with anyone,
you feel all the pain and fear all over again.
And you wish you could express your love
to your other half
the way you should be able to,
but sometimes you get so sick
you can't even see straight.

It might seem crazy to someone who doesn't understand it.
To those who've luckily never experienced the pain and fear or of being taken advantage of, sexually.
And maybe we are a little crazy from what has happened to us.
But it's not our fault.
It's not a joke.
It's very real.
It happens every day.
To strangers.
To friends, family, and neighbors.
Not everyone is strong enough to admit it,
and that's okay.
It took me many years to even admit it to myself.
But it FUCKING happens.

every woman is a human. Even if you have to think "what if this was my sister, mother, girlfriend, daughter, etc?" think of every woman as a person. We all feel. And not all of what we feel is pleasure. We're not objects. We breathe, bleed, and feel. Our lives are not a joke
Amroth Theldas Jul 2016

every breath a torch of flame as i look up and see the blue above i want to fly away but no he says and holds my wrist behind me crying blurs the sky i cannot see his hand is sliding slowly slowly down i want to fly i want to fly i want to fly just let me go i cannot speak the ties of painlovefear are tighter on my lips just let me go i want to die there is no place to go to hide to flee inside me nightmares circle vultures breeding vultures breeding vultures breeding vultures and i just want to go just let me go i cannot speak

rising pain and fear i shake he stands there looking and my throat constricts no hands just eyes that's all it takes i want to go i cannot speak don't touch me

shiver quiver fear is king i lose myself the darkness hides it all i look around at nothing so i stay huddled in the corner of my mind i want to go just let me go i want to fly just let me fly

there is no place to go he stands there his hands are sliding sliding down i want to go don't touch me let me go why can't i speak i'm screaming why can't i hear myself i'm dying why won't my blood flow i'm frozen burning dying alive inside myself his hands are warm as hell

too scared to know too crushed to flee i want to fly just let me go don't touch me another face is there smiling kindly just a devil of a different breed i cannot tell he takes me in please please don't let him near i never will you're safe with me i'm just a devil of a different breed so let me in i'll take you dear and make you feel and shape you straight and keep you safe and tell you lies as i hold you tight and touch you touch you don't break free

dead i'm dead i'm dying just let me go God  i cannot anymore no feeling left i can't i can't it's woven into me to fear to lose to break i do not know the devil was so close behind me a shackle on my mind i fear i lose i weep no soaring no blue sky i cannot see the sunset and i know that feeling he is there again a standing shadow at the end of my bed kneeling over looking down i cannot feel i am not here i leave i flee i run i cannot move and smiling looking down at me against the red light i am now in hell i think i will not cannot go i scream i live i die i am not here i am not here just let me go don't touch me touch me i will kill your heart i am not human anymore you killed me let me go i will fly sometime just let me show you and the knife is twisted and i die for real he laughs i hear it as i fade no fear i'm done i'm gone i cannot say goodbye he took me stole me i will never see the light of day

i am woman
i am slave

Feel this pain, my fellow men. Weep for them and kill your demons. Act.
xenaphobic Jun 2016

I was young so very, very young. I WASN’T EVEN SIX! And you were in high school….. and i trusted you. I followed you and you said you’d keep me safe if I got scared. Then you asked me what I wanted to do. I said play house and then you asked me if I new how we would make a baby. and i was so young….. I said leaves and sticks and then you grabbed me you kissed me and stuck your slimy tounge in my small mouth and then I don’t remember much I don’t remember if you did anything else I don’t remember getting back to the apartment I can’t even picture your face…..I know you've made me put up a barrier on a part of my life I shouldn’t have had to. Why? I WAS YOUR BEST FRIENDS LITTLE SISTER……I WASN’T EVEN SIX!!!!!!! I’m afraid of running into you on the street and you getting your revenge that I told on you and that it ruined your life. I can’t tell people. Why would you you do this to me I just wish I could understand. I just wish i had been given a chance at a normal life and you stole that from me...why?

Any thoughts, tips, opinions, and/or criticisms appreciated.
Kathryn Jude Nov 2014

The magician's basement was no more glamorous than my own.
Old couches, an untouched television.
One corner, however, holds some curiosities.
Loaded dice, trick decks, handkerchiefs.
Handcuffs, matches, rope, knives.

But his handcuffs hold no illusion, only my thin wrists.
They are hard and cold like any other pair
digging in, no escape.

There was no magic.

He offers to show me a trick.
How easy, I think now, it must be
to fool a seven year old girl.

I was tricked.

He told me once that magicians love the dark.
The black, he said, keeps their secrets hidden.
He told me to close my eyes,
and when I could finally open them,
there was no more light.

He hid me in the dark with the rest of his secrets, the rest of his tricks.


I may take this one down, I don't know.
Y Rada Oct 2015

It is difficult to be a man,
For I am not a typical one.
It is hard for me to go on,
There’s a secret that pulls me.

I loathe when my memories strike,
They hit emotionally with might.
I struggle so much to survive,
In a world so deaf towards my cries.

I look at a He and my heart convulses,
For I recall a He who gave me kisses.
I was young, forced and naïve,
I fought but He was much stronger.

Society might tell that I’m gay,
For I let a man violated me in a way.
But I’m not a sissy and I’m sure,
I play a role for which others envy.

When I was a teen I met her,
I admired her even if she’s older.
I was then shy and very timid,
With mental and emotional scars.

I thought of her as a dear friend,
Then she turned to be my worst fiend.
One instance she forced herself on me,
And used things that hurt me so.

A girl’s tactics differ from the stronger sex,
Tears she used first and blackmail next.
She was cunning, sly and very clever,
She stole my pride and my dignity.

My fears now mixed with anger,
My determinations got bolder.
I still cry and sometimes get lonely,
Like any other victim I want to fight.

I can not shout to the whole nations,
For societies will scorn at my declamation.
Both sexes forgot that I have feelings too,
I am also made of flesh, bones and spirit.

I am not proud of what I become,
Within me clouding reasons try to calm.
My desire is to win this battle to the end,
I am capable of vulnerability like any human.

But where does my right begin?
This universe has compassion for women.
The likes of me are expected to be steel made,
Yet I have feelings too for I am just a man.

Dedicated to all abused males by other men and to the men abused by females. A simple shout out to the world that I care…that I have heard your cries… and that you are still loved.
Dylan Lane May 2015

Are not a man.
You are not worth
My mercy
Or my words how dare you
Touch him
With your hands filthy
Threaten to beat the shit out of
My lover?
If he doesn’t give you his cell phone you
Or else he could give you
A ten minute blowjob
And escape with his life
And his bones intact
But not with his dignity
Not without vomit rising in his mouth and pain shooting through his body and reaching deep into the cracks that I have slowly been helping him heal
You are
Not worth my mercy
Or my words and
If I had my way you
Would be
Sitting pretty under my knife
If I had my way I would have my
Sadistic revenge.
Your bones
Are going to look so good
As earrings.

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